


Sleeping under the stars

by IndigoTaiga



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Stardew, Stardew Valley - Freeform, Valley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoTaiga/pseuds/IndigoTaiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth, is a hard working, depressed young office worker who recieves a letter on her birthday to go to her Grandfather's Country House to start a new life. [Generic Stardew Setting, but obviously told in story rather than through the game, give it a read if you want!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping under the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nyan :3](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nyan+%3A3).



> My friend Nyan got me into this game technically, and also she unintentionally got me into writing Stardew Valley Fanfiction, you can find it on fanfiction as well, under the same username, but it is exclusively posted on Archive first! Congrats! Have fun reading!! :3 Kirin~

My mind wandered to thoughts of working in the morning, as I downed a glass of wine in my small apartment. I’d moved away from my parents place the moment I could. A job in a small office paid for my way out, and after that general excitement, the beauty of a life by myself was fading. It was a hard life - one where rent payments and a low salary meant I could do nothing but eat small meals, and drink nothing but water, and cheap alcohol. I’d left my family behind many months ago, and all I could do, was look at how bleak my life was now; day after day was the same: Wake up early, go to work, come home, shower, eat a small meal, drink a small glass of wine, and then go to bed.  
It was more exhausting the more I repeated this boring day after day routine.  
Tomorrow, for example, would be the same. My friends all lived miles away from me, I had to relocate for work, meaning, that on my very own birthday, nothing would be different.  
I poured myself another glass, nobody cared about me enough at my shitty office to smell the slight hint of alcohol on my breath, so I risked the third glass. I could’ve celebrated on my birthday tomorrow, but the feeling of addiction and boredom took me to doing that tonight instead.  
The deep red liquid passed my lips quickly and I almost slammed the glass down next to my sink, ready for me to wash and reuse at later on today. My life was becoming tiresome, and on the eve of my birthday, I finally settled down into my cold bed, alone and depressed, to get some well-deserved sleep.

X

The next morning started like all the rest. I woke up, this time groggy from the extra alcohol that I had ingested the previous night, and got dressed for work, the same black pencil skirt, the same white blouse, black suit jacket and the same old freaking pair of high heeled pumps that would inevitably give me plenty of blisters throughout the day from being a size too small.  
To add to my peril, 8am on the last day of the month usually meant that a small white envelope would pass through the letter box. It would contain the same set of three figures that meant I had to pay my rent.  
I heard the flap of the letter box get lifted at exactly 8, but the sound of paper hitting the carpet did not come. Instead, a large thud echoed through my apartment.  
That did not sound like the rent payment slip.  
When I moved out of my bedroom toward the front door, I saw a large brown package, with a small white envelope on the top. “Well”, I sighed, “there’s the rent slip…”  
But what was in that brown package, I wondered. I picked up both, and slipped them into my satchel. Rent I could pay when I got back, but I was itching to know what was in the almost hefty package that I was soon to be carrying. I dumped my satchel on the leather sofa and went to the kitchen to grab breakfast. I mulled over the thought of one of my friends being considerate enough to remember my birthday and send me a gift.  
Grabbing the satchel again, I moved towards the door once again, this time, opening it and stepping outside into the bleak summer sunshine. I closed it behind me and locked it, making my way down the stairs and down onto the street below. Five minutes of walking later I stood at the bus stop. I’d missed the most recent bus, and there was nobody else stood at the stop, so I pulled the package out and mulled over it some more, moving it around in my hands and examining the handwriting on the front, before ripping it open gracefully.  
Inside was a handful of cards, and 4 neatly wrapped parcels, 1 small and 3 medium sized. I guess people cared more than I thought.  
I grabbed one of the cards and ripped into it, a small greeting from my family that I had left behind, and a wish of a happy birthday was inside.  
Apparently my folks cared more about me than I thought. Well, they cared enough to send me a handful of cards. Each card was the same, ‘Happy Birthday Elizabeth! Hope you have a great 20th birthday!!’, it was dull and reminded me of how annoying my parents and siblings were, all of them decided to use my full name too.  
There was one last card in the stack, I looked it up and down. This wasn’t handwriting I recognized, it was loopy and precise, almost like they took the time to put effort into it. I ripped it open carefully, seeing the bus approaching in the distance. I kept hold of it, while I clambered onto the bus, sitting myself at the back, it was a long ride to work, so I might as well get comfortable.  
I peered inside the neatly presented card and saw that there wasn’t just a card, but a piece of folded up paper. How odd. Inside the card, was another greeting and celebratory happy birthday wish, as well as small silvery cakes that dropped out when I opened it properly. Meh, it was too early in the morning for me or the bus driver to care, so I let them fall, some of them onto my lap, others onto the floor around me. My grandparents on my mother’s side had decided to send me a card after all these years of lack of anything that even closely resembled a congratulatory card. I moved onto the paper inside the envelope, which I soon noticed was folded up neatly.  
Once unfolded, I noticed it was actually a letter from my deceased grandparents that they had decided to include in with the card.

“Dear Elizabeth,” it read, in the fancy, loopy handwriting. “We are writing to you to wish you a happy forthcoming birthday. Your mother explained to us that the only thing you wanted was to move out of the house at all costs, I understand that since you’re of age now that you’re reading this, (and I asked your mother before my passing to hand you this card on the birthday following when you’d left her household) that you’re in a small house or flat working a small mediocre job in the city. We have a special gift to give you, now that we have finally moved on with our lives after all these years and retired. We hope you can make the most use of our gift and there are many more to follow should you wish to take up our offer. Your grandmother and myself once lived out in the country and our small country house is probably gathering dust. So included with this card is a small package containing a key to a small property with a lot of land out in Pelican Town, Stardew Valley in the Ferngill Republic. Your mother should have included some money to get you across the Gem Sea and to our old country house. We hope you enjoy this gift and the moment you want to get away from your job and life in the big city, we hope you take up the opportunity to go and take a break and live with the peaceful folk out in the Stardew Valley area. I met your Grandma Stella here, so maybe you might find someone to hold close, too. I’m sure they’d love a new resident to move in! Again, Happy Birthday my dear. Much Love, Grandpa Rich.”

My eyes glossed over the neatly written text, my grandfather had written this before his passing, and my mother had sent it to me. He’d almost been dead a year, as hard as that is for me to believe, but I never knew they owned a country house so far away, they hadn’t really ever mentioned it to me, as far as I knew they lived in a retirement home for most of my life. I reread the letter again, once, twice, three times. I couldn’t take it in. One of my grandparents last wishes for me was to move out of my recently acquired apartment and away from the area where I grew up to make a cushy life sitting out in the country. I hardly feel like I have enough money to do that.  
I shoved the letter into my satchel and pulled out the smallest of the presents out of the package. The paper was slightly dusty, my mother obviously hadn’t done a good job in ridding it of the dust that had sat on it for ages before she sent it to me.  
Clearly proof that she cares, no?  
My hand stroked over the dusty paper as I stroked my nail strongly against the paper, hearing it rip and tear under it.  
There was a small black box, once all the greasy paper had been removed. It was adorned with my initials and was obviously made for the purpose of holding whatever was inside for me, and me alone to open.  
Once opened, I found a small silvery key, with a black keyring attached so I could put in on my belt or attach it to my work lanyard. This must have been the key that my grandfather referred to in the letter, so I closed the box and shoved it into the back part of my satchel so that it if someone were to look into my bag, it wouldn’t get stolen or anything of the like.  
I saw the bus nearing my stop, but I grabbed the next present out of the bag, deciding it was the next one I was going to open before my coffee break at around lunchtime.  
Inside, was the money that my grandfather had again, referred to, but it was stored in a little red storage box. There was a note from my mother inside explaining that it was storage box for putting money inside that had once again been left by my grandfather, but the money was from her, just as she had said.  
My god, did he spend every moment before his death planning this out to a T to make sure it was pulled off right? I hoped he was watching as I counted the money out. 10,000 big ones. I’m pretty sure he planned this out right, apparently this would be enough to get me a ticket to this nice fancy little place in the country. I stored it away and gazed outside the window. My stop would be soon, and with that, work would soon begin.

X

By the time I made it home that evening, I was exhausted, logistics had dumped an entire load of paperwork on my sector of the office, and before I could complain to the head of my section, she had dumped a third of it on my desk without hesitation, I had missed my coffee break and only managed to get a quick bite to eat from the cafeteria before needing to face the stack that needed to be done by the end of the day. Then I needed to go off and pay my rent, which left me tired and wanting to just throw myself into my cushy bed and end the day. I hadn’t really had a moment to sit and think about the offer I had been given earlier that day. Maybe sometime in the future was the conclusion I had come to. I just didn’t see it working out, and I was comfortable in what I was doing now, but I told myself I would make a decision in a few months from now properly as to whether I would quit my job and move away, or keep my job and continue living the way I was now.

One thing I did know though, is that if I decided to go, I might be able to sleep under the stars in the cool, midnight valley of a land that was far from what I knew.

XXX

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos or bookmark if you want to see more! :3


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